Resurrection
by Andra Marie Mueller
Summary: An enemy from the past returns to extract revenge against the Dark Knight. repost


"**RESURRECTION"**

**By**

**Andra Marie Mueller**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This story takes place in the a/u established in my "Reunion" series. All things "Batman" and "Superman" are the legal property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. But they wouldn't recognize their characters in my world anyway. Thanks as always to my Editor/Beta Reader for the usual reasons, especially for the online laughs and her patience with wading through the various versions of this story J

"_When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever." _

– Proverbs 10:25

**PROLOGUE: GOTHAM CITY MUNICIPAL PARK**

They called him the Butcher. Like most predators, he attacked at night. His prey was always chosen for him, pre-selected by the Master for reasons he was not told of, nor concerned with. Ignoring the clap of thunder signaling the impending storm, he kept himself hidden in the darkness as he stalked his victim.

Whitney Johnson stifled a frustrated sigh as she made her way through the city park. A senior at Gotham University, she was studying business and working as an assistant secretary at Wayne Enterprises. Normally the petite blonde would have been home before nightfall, but had stayed over to have dinner with a trio of co-workers at the small Mexican restaurant down the street from Wayne Tower. Declining one of her friends offer of a ride home, Whitney had taken the bus and exited at the stop across the park from her apartment building. No sooner had she stepped off the bus than the storm hit and the rain came pouring down.

"I thought it was the fires of hell, not the rainstorms," she muttered aloud.

Clutching the small tote bag with her personal effects closer to her, Whitney increased her walking speed as she made her way toward her apartment. She was nearly three quarters of the way through the park when an indiscernible figure stepped out from behind a small grove of trees. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated him just long enough for Whitney to catch a glimpse of the large knife he held in his hand, but he was upon her before she could scream for help.

It was raining. Bruce stood alone in the middle of the cemetery, oblivious to the downpour as he stared at the tombstone.

**JORDAN ALEXANDRA WAYNE**

**1974-2012  
Beloved Wife and Mother**

The pain in his heart was nearly tangible and a clap of thunder sounded overhead just as he released an anguished cry.

"Nooooo!"

"Bruce!" a familiar voice said sharply. "Bruce, wake up!"

The voice penetrated his subconscious and Bruce awoke with a sudden start, bolting upright in bed. His body was drenched in sweat, and he could feel the abnormally fast pounding of his heart. Glancing over, he discovered his wife in bed beside him, her dark blue eyes wide with concern as she watched him. His brain still fogged by the last vestiges of his dream, Bruce's handsome face rippled with confusion.

"Jordan…?"

"Yes."

They had been married for five years, their love having overcome the revelation that Bruce was Batman and her fears about his other life, as well as the attempts on Jordan's life prior to their marriage. Yet their rocky start had only served to strengthen the bond between them and they were now the proud parents of three beautiful children; three year old twins Kaya Martha and Evan Alfred, and eight month old Alexander Ashton.

Just then the image of the tombstone flashed through Bruce's mind again and he reached over to place his palm against her cheek, seeking assurance that she was real. Jordan could feel the slight tremble in his touch and flashed him a small smile as she placed her hand over his.

"You were having a doozy of a nightmare, Handsome," she said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"It wasn't a dream. It felt more like a vision…or a premonition."

"Of what?"

"Your death."

Surprise flickered across her features. "Tell me what you saw."

Bruce sighed. "It was very brief. It was raining, and I was standing over your grave in the cemetery. I read your tombstone and it was if someone had ripped out my heart. I remember shouting in denial, and then you woke me up."

"Did the tombstone reflect the date of my death?" Jordan asked.

"No; only that it was this year."

Jordan fell silent, taking a moment to absorb the information before responding. Bruce was certainly not psychic, but the depth of the connection between them had given him a sixth sense when it came to anyone or anything that posed a threat to their family.

"It may not have been a vision," she suggested. "Even Batman is entitled to an ordinary nightmare once in a while."

Intuition told Bruce that what he had seen was at the very least a foreshadowing of some future danger to Jordan, but he was unwilling to risk upsetting her by pressing the issue.

"I suppose so," he demurred. "I apologize for waking you, Princess."

She gave him a brilliant smile. "I fully expect you to make it up to me."

Bruce returned the smile. "It will be my pleasure," he declared, and lowered his head to kiss her.

**WAYNE ENTERPRISES**

The following afternoon, the half dozen Directors of Wayne Conservation International were gathering in the main conference room for their monthly meeting. Conspicuously absent was Jordan, who was to meet them at the office following a lunch date with her brother. Clark was in Gotham for a story he was working on in tandem with a reporter from The Gotham Herald. Outside it was raining - a hard, soaking rain accompanied by occasional flashes of lightening and claps of thunder.

In his office with Lucius Fox, Bruce again glanced at his watch before shifting his attention to the rain-splattered window. It was raining in my vision when I was standing over Jordan's grave, he mused uneasily.

"Is there a problem, Mister Wayne?" Fox asked quietly from the chair opposite Bruce's desk.

Bruce afforded him a brief glance. "Just wondering what's taking Jordan so long."

"Maybe her lunch date with her brother ran longer than she expected," Fox suggested.

"I called the restaurant and they told me she left over half an hour ago. She's also not answering her cell phone."

As if to confirm his fears, another wave of foreboding washed over him, leaving Bruce shivering in its wake. Seeing him blanch, Fox's expression changed to concern.

"Are you all right, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce quickly got to his feet as he responded. "I can't shake the feeling that something's happened to Jordan," he responded anxiously. "I have to find her."

Without waiting for a response, Bruce practically bolted toward the door just as his cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his coat. "Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce, it's me," Clark's voice said. "I'm at Gotham Memorial Hospital."

Dread immediately settled like ice in Bruce's stomach. "What's happened to Jordan?"

"There's been an accident," Clark said. "Jordan rolled her car at the construction site just a few blocks from the restaurant."

"How is she?"

"Her injuries aren't life threatening, but she was pretty banged up. You should get over here as soon as possible."

"I'm on my way."

**GOTHAM MEMORIAL HOSPITAL**

Bruce arrived at the hospital and found Clark in the waiting room, grimacing at the cup of coffee he held in his hand.

"How's Jordan?" Bruce asked without preamble.

"In surgery," Clark answered.

"What happened?"

"I don't know for sure. I was on my way to see Andy Gordon over at the Herald when I heard the crash. I didn't realize it was Jordan until I got to the scene and found her inside when I turned the car right-side up."

"Are either of you gentlemen Bruce Wayne?" a feminine voice prompted from behind him.

Both men turned to see an attractive dark haired woman about their age standing a few feet away, dressed in surgical scrubs.

"I'm Bruce Wayne," he revealed.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm Doctor Sarah Caldwell, the trauma surgeon in charge of your wife's care."

"How's Jordan?"

"Your wife's surgery went very well and we've transferred her to a private room while she recovers," Caldwell told him.

Bruce closed his eyes in silent relief before asking, "How badly was she hurt?"

"She tore a pair of ligaments in her left knee, but no bones were broken. She'll be on crutches for about six weeks and will need a couple of months of physical therapy. She also struck her head rather forcefully against the steering wheel, which resulted in a nasty gash that required a dozen stitches and left her with a concussion. We've given her some medication to ease the pain and if there are no complications we'll release her in a couple of days."

"I want to see her," Bruce declared firmly.

"Of course. I can take you to her now."

"I'm going to call Lois, my mom and Alfred to let them know she's all right," Clark offered. "I'll join you after I've talked to them."

"Thank you."

Bruce followed Caldwell down the hall to the elevator, which they rode to the third floor. Once there, Caldwell told him Jordan was in the last room on the right and then left him to be alone with her. Bruce made his way to her room and quietly walked inside, feeling his heart constrict at the sight of her. Her left cheek was darkly bruised, indicating it had been the point of impact against the steering wheel. Her forehead was covered with a bandage and her left leg was being kept immobile in a sling, while an IV lead into her right arm. Grabbing a nearby chair, he settled himself beside her and took her free hand in one of his, then lifted his other hand to gently caress her uninjured cheek. She stirred at his touch and after blinking sleepily a few times focused her gaze on Bruce, her face creasing into a warm smile.

"Hi, Handsome," she greeted wearily, her voice raspy from the anesthesia.

"Hi yourself," Bruce returned softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she responded. "And everything hurts."

Bruce gently rested his palm against her cheek. "I imagine it does."

"I'm sorry I worried you," Jordan apologized, leaning into his touch.

"I fully expect you to make it up to me," Bruce responded, repeating her remark after his nightmare of the night before.

Jordan's smile widened ever so slightly and she managed to mutter a sleepy "I love you" before drifting back into sleep. Releasing a heavy sigh, Bruce leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her uninjured cheek.

"I love you too, Princess," he whispered.

Clark joined him then and smiled at the sight of Bruce hovering over his soundly sleeping wife. "Does she even know you're here?" he asked softly.

"She woke up for a couple of minutes," Bruce answered. "Between the accident and the medication I was surprised she woke up at all."

"Knowing Jordan she probably willed herself awake just to reassure you that she was all right," Clark remarked.

Bruce managed a smile at the thought before changing the subject. "I don't suppose you saw anyone or anything of interest when you rescued her?"

Clark shook his head. "I was too concerned with ensuring I got Jordan out of the car safely," he answered. "I'm assuming, however, that the Gotham P.D. will have a report on the investigation into the accident by morning."

"l will definitely get a copy of that," Bruce concurred, "but I'm also going to do some investigating of my own. If somebody is targeting Jordan for whatever reason, I need to know about it sooner rather than later."

"I'll second that. Do you mind some company?"

"Not at all. I'm going to stay with Jordan a bit longer to make sure she's sleeping comfortably and then I need to change. Why don't I meet you at the accident site in an hour?"

Clark nodded. "I'll see you then."

He cast a final anxious glance at his sister before leaving the room.

By the time Clark returned to the accident site, night had fallen and the rain had stopped. Batman was all ready there, silently observing the scene from the shadows. It was roped off with yellow crime scene tape and about a dozen members of the Gotham Police Department were milling about. A trio of what he assumed to be forensics experts was hovering over the wreckage of Jordan's car and Clark frowned as he glanced at the remains of her car.

_My beloved baby sister has more lives than a cat_, he mused silently.

Lowering his glasses, he scanned the car, but the quick once over with his X-ray vision did not immediately reveal any obvious cause for the accident.

From beside him, Batman was watching him scan the vehicle. "Does anything look suspicious?" he prompted.

"Not from this distance," Clark answered.

Just then one of the uniformed officers noticed Clark and walked over to him. "Can I help you, pal?" he asked.

Batman quickly stepped deeper into the shadows as Clark flashed the officer a friendly smile while he carefully withdrew his ID. "I hope so," he said. "My name is Clark Kent and my sister was the woman involved in the accident."

"Well your sister is one lucky lady, Mr. Kent," the officer told him. "If Superman hadn't shown up when he did and turned the car over, it might have eventually crushed her."

In the darkness, Batman tried not to flinch at the causal assessment. _That's a visual I didn't need_, he thought to himself.

"Do you have any idea yet what caused the accident?" Clark questioned.

"We're working on it," the officer responded. "There weren't any witnesses so we're hoping that your sister will be able to tell us what happened."

"Do you mind if I look around?"

"Suit yourself, but stay out of the way."

"I will. Thank you."

The cop returned to his duties and Clark began a cursory inventory of the crime scene. Wandering over to the road, he knelt down beside the pavement and sliding his glasses down, did a quick scan with his X-ray vision to see if he could detect anything unusual on the ground. Careful to avoid being seen by the police, Batman came over to stand beside him.

"Can you see anything unusual on the pavement?" he asked in a raspy whisper.

"Nothing but oil and grease," Clark answered and rose to his feet.

Taking his own cursory look at the ground, it took a moment for Batman's instincts to tell him that something was missing.

"There are no skid marks," he observed. "If Jordan swerved after she braked when she lost control of the car, there should be skid marks across the road."

"If she hydroplaned there may not have been enough traction for her to leave skid marks," Clark countered.

"If she had hydroplaned she would have simply crashed into the building," Batman returned. "If there was enough force to flip the car over on impact, there was damn well enough traction to have left skid marks."

Clark was prevented from responding by the approach of footsteps behind him, and Batman faded back into the shadows as one of the officers addressed Clark

"Mr. Kent?"

Clark glanced up to see the same officer he had spoken with moments earlier. "Yes?"

The officer gestured his head toward the wreckage. "Forensics has found something I think you'll be interested in."

Clark gave him a curious glance and pushed his glasses up his nose as he followed the policeman back to the remains of Jordan's car. A man of about fifty with brown hair and wearing a sports jacket approached them, his expression grim.

"Mr. Kent, I'm Detective Stone with Gotham P.D. A preliminary examination of your sister's vehicle seems to indicate that her accident wasn't an 'accident' after all."

Clark frowned. "What did you find?"

"It appears that someone had recently cut the brake lines on the car, so all of the brake fluid leaked out. When your sister tried to put on her brakes for whatever reason earlier, there was nothing there to make them work."

_That can't be a coincidence_, Clark mused silently.

"Do you have any idea why somebody would want to hurt your sister?" Stone asked.

Clark sighed. "To the best of my knowledge Jordan doesn't have any enemies herself, but she is married to Bruce Wayne. That in itself may make her a target."

Stone nodded. "Wayne seems like a nice enough guy, but you don't get the kind of cash he's got without pissing off a few people along the way," he mused. "I don't suppose your sister is up to answering questions yet?"

"No. She underwent major surgery and is heavily medicated, plus she has a concussion. I don't expect her to be lucid enough to tell us anything until tomorrow."

"Do me a favor and let Wayne and your sister know I need to talk to them as soon as possible," Stone requested. "I'll stop by the hospital in the morning."

"I'll pass that along," Clark said.

Casting a final glance around the accident site, Clark walked over to rejoin Batman.

"Well apparently Jordan's accident wasn't so random after all," he informed him.

"What did the police find?"

"Somebody severed the brake lines on Jordan's car."

Batman cursed under his breath. "Damnit!" he muttered. "How the hell would somebody get access to Jordan's car long enough to tamper with her brakes? The parking lots at the zoo and Wayne Enterprises are monitored 24/7 by security guards and surveillance cameras."

"I don't know, but we are certainly going to find out," Clark declared. "I assume you're going to stay here a while longer to see what you can uncover, so I'm going to head back to the hospital to keep an eye on Jordan."

Batman nodded in acknowledgement and retreated back into the darkness to resume his surveillance as Clark headed back to the hospital.

The sound of footsteps echoed loudly in the silent hallway as he made his way to the room at the opposite end. Reaching the door, he stifled a nervous sigh and knocked once to announce his presence before stepping inside. The only light inside came from a pair of windows on opposite sides of the wall, and it barely revealed the presence of an elderly man seated in a wheelchair in the center of the room.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I wanted to discuss your methods of handling the situation I spoke of when we last met."

The older man's voice was a raspy whisper and even in the otherwise silent room, the younger man had to strain to hear him.

"It was my understanding that the 'methods' were to be at my discretion provided that the end result was the same."

"At no time did I say that the end result was to be her death. The fact that she is still alive is the only reason you are."

"I thought that's what you wanted. An eye for an eye. Jordan Wayne's life for yours."

"Eventually yes. But not before Bruce Wayne knows who is responsible and why."

"I am still confused as to why you don't simply kill the man himself."

"I would prefer that he spend the rest of his life knowing that I took from him that what he values most," came the response.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I think it will be in our best interests to control how he obtains the information regarding the true nature of his wife's 'accident'. Make arrangements for the first piece of the puzzle to make its way to Wayne within the next seventy-two hours. Once we've seen how he reacts to it, we can proceed with the next piece accordingly."

"I'll see to it myself."

**GOTHAM MEMORIAL HOSPITAL**

Two days later, Jordan and Bruce were in her hospital room awaiting the arrival of Detective Stone. The day after her accident, Jordan had still been fairly out of it and in quite a bit of pain, so Bruce had contacted Stone to inform him that the questioning would have to be postponed for another day. Clark had come by a couple times to check on his sister, but both times she had been sound asleep.

By the second day, she was in better spirits and the pain was now manageable, so Doctor Caldwell had signed off on her discharge papers after eliciting a promise from Bruce that he would arrange for a physical therapist to being working with Jordan ASAP at Wayne Manor. Shortly thereafter the press had shown up to ask Jordan about the crash and it was the latter meeting that she was now telling Bruce about.

"The press was here after Dr. Caldwell gave me the all clear to go home," she told him, resting on the edge of her bed with her injured leg propped on a chair. "However, they were more interested in why Superman showed up so quickly at the accident site than in what caused the accident or what condition I was in."

"Jealous of your brother's good publicity?" Bruce teased.

Jordan snorted. "Trying to insinuate that I have a romantic relationship with Superman hardly constitutes good publicity," she retorted. "Of course they did the same thing last time I was rescued by Batman."

"Well since neither your brother nor myself are in a position to set them straight about your relationship with both men, perhaps the wisest course of action would be to avoid needing us to rescue you."

"I wouldn't need rescuing if homeless people wouldn't jump in front of my car in the middle of a rainstorm," Jordan countered.

Jordan's comment struck Bruce as odd and he gave his wife a curious look. "Is that what caused the accident?" he asked.

"More or less, although it would have been equally helpful if my brakes hadn't chosen that precise moment to go out on me."

_This just keeps getting better,_ Bruce mused in silent frustration, his handsome face creasing into a frown.

"You have that look, Bruce."

"What look?"

"The Something's bothering me but I won't risk upsetting Jordan with it' look."

_She knows me too well_. "I wasn't aware I was that transparent."

Jordan flashed him an affectionate smile. "Only to me."

Bruce smiled back. "Why don't we shelve this conversation until we get home?" he suggested.

Jordan was prevented from responding by the arrival of Clark, who flashed her a warm smile as he entered the room.

"Hey, Little Sister," he greeted.

"Hey yourself," Jordan returned, and the siblings exchanged a hug. "Thanks for getting me out of my car so quickly after my accident. Being trapped upside down in the wreckage, I was definitely feeling a claustrophobia attack coming on before I blacked out."

"I'm just glad I was there to help," Clark demurred. "Except for the medical accessories on your forehead and your leg, you don't look half bad after your most recent brush with the Grim Reaper."

"How nice of you to say so, Big Brother," Jordan said dryly. "Thanks to some very nice painkillers, I am feeling just fine."

"Now that I've seen for myself that you're all right, I am going to leave you in your husband's capable hands and head back to Metropolis. Mom is anxious to talk with you, so please make sure you call her when you get home."

"Consider it done. Give my love to Lois and Jason."

"I will."

"I'll walk you out," Bruce said and glanced at Jordan. "I'll be right back."

The men exited the room and once they were in the hallway Bruce turned to Clark. "Jordan said that somebody jumped in front of her car and that her brakes went out at almost the exact same time," he revealed.

"Quite a coincidence," Clark remarked. "Or not."

"My thoughts exactly. I'm going to do some checking and see if I can figure out which of my enemies is targeting Jordan to get to me. I'll call you in a couple of days and let you know what I come up with."

"Well have fun in the meantime trying to keep Jordan in tow," Clark quipped. "You know how she gets when you try to keep her under guard and out of harm's way."

"All too well," Bruce allowed. "Fortunately her injured leg should prove helpful in that regard, as her mobility will be limited for the six weeks she's on crutches."

"This is Jordan we're talking about, Bruce. Do you honestly think her leg is going to slow her down at all?"

"Probably not. Maybe I should invite your mother and Ben for a visit."

Clark laughed. "You have a selective memory, brother-in-law o'mine," he replied. "The last time you asked Mom to come to Gotham and run interference for you with Jordan, did she, or did she not tell you that 'Jordan is your wife and the mother of your children; you deal with her'?"

"I was hoping that was just a heat of the moment remark," Bruce said.

"Sorry."

Reluctant resignation was evident in Bruce's expression. "So am I. I'll talk with you in a couple of days."

The men exchanged farewells and Clark headed out of the hospital as Bruce returned to Jordan. Neither of them noticed an Asian man of perhaps forty, dressed in surgical scrubs and watching them from the end of the hallway. He stayed in the background as they spoke, then after allowing Clark enough time to leave the hospital, the man cast a final glance at the door to Jordan's room before also taking his leave.

**WAYNE MANOR**

After finishing their meeting with Detective Stone, Bruce brought Jordan back to Wayne Manor. Although the children and the dogs were delighted to have her home, Alfred was careful to moderate their exuberant greetings, not wanting them to risk an accidental encounter with Jordan's injured knee.

"I assure you that your mother is equally overjoyed to be back amongst you all, but please do not bump into her injured leg," he requested. "I fear she may react in a flash of pain and temper and someone may get whacked with a crutch."

Bruce stifled a laugh as Jordan shot her grandfather an admonishing look. "I don't think it's appropriate for you to be warning the children that I might do them or the dogs bodily harm, Alfred," she chided.

"It's myself I'm worried about, Miss Jordan," Alfred responded as he held onto a happily gurgling Alexander. "I'm the largest target."

Bruce did laugh at that and Jordan turned her gaze to him. "Please don't encourage him or I'll whack you with a crutch."

Bruce wordlessly lifted his hands in a mute gesture of surrender as Alfred addressed him.

"Before your lovely wife does you bodily harm, Master Wayne, Lucius asked that you call him at the office once you returned home," he told him. "The children and I will help Miss Jordan outside so all of you can enjoy a late breakfast on the South terrace."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce replied and turned to Jordan. "I'll join you outside after I talk with Lucius."

"Don't be too long or I'll feed your pancakes to the dogs," Jordan cautioned.

Bruce responded to the threat only with the widening of his smile and he gave her a quick kiss before heading for the study. Although Hero and Trouble made their way outside with the others, Harmony instead shadowed Bruce as he entered the study. As a puppy, Harmony had been a gift from Bruce to Jordan after she had given birth to the twins and was the 'smallest' of the family dogs at 125 pounds. However after her first couple of months in the Wayne household, it had become obvious that the Irish Wolfhound actually favored Bruce over Jordan, much to the latter's amusement.

"Just goes to show you that when you're dealing with a female of any species, she knows a good man when she sees him," Jordan had quipped.

It had certainly proven true for Harmony and she faithfully followed Bruce everywhere when he was at home.

"Come on in, Harmony," Bruce said as he watched her trail into the room behind him and he gave her a quick pat.

As Harmony lay down on the floor beside his desk, Bruce settled in and picked up the phone to call Lucius. He had called his friend and CEO from the hospital after returning from the accident site and informed him what he had found out about Jordan's accident. Fox was in his office when the phone rang and he picked it up on the second ring.

"Lucius Fox."

"Good morning, Lucius," Bruce greeted. "Alfred gave me the message that you wanted to speak with me."

"Good morning, Mister Wayne," Fox replied cheerfully. "How is Dr. Wayne?"

"Jordan is a bit worse for the wear and having to get around on crutches for the next six weeks will certainly not do anything to mollify her temper," came the wry response. "Thankfully, however, she suffered no permanent damage."

"I'm glad to hear it," Fox replied. "Have you seen this morning's paper?"

"Actually I didn't have time to read it yet," Bruce answered. "What am I missing?"

Fox sighed. "One of our staff members was killed the night before last," he revealed. "One of the assistant secretaries, a young girl named Whitney Johnson, was apparently the latest victim of the killer the papers are calling 'The Butcher'."

Bruce frowned. "Was she killed at the office?"

"No. She lives in an apartment building next to the park and he attacked her when she was only about a hundred yards from home."

"What time did this happen?" Bruce queried.

"According to the friends she had dinner with, Whitney left the restaurant just before 9:00," Fox answered. "She used the bus for transportation so the police have determined that she picked up the 9:15 bus that stops in front of the park, which would have gotten her there about 9:45. Her body was discovered early this morning by a couple walking their dog in the park, so she could have been attacked anytime between 9:45 last night and 7:00 this morning."

Now it was Bruce's turn to sigh and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "That's the third victim he's killed in the last week," he muttered angrily. "If I didn't know better I'd think he was taunting me."

"I don't know if he's necessarily taunting you," Fox said, "but he certainly does seem to want to get your attention. And it's rather interesting that the latest victim not only has a direct connection to your company, but was killed less than 24 hours before someone presumably attempted to kill your wife."

"You think it's personal," Bruce surmised.

"I think it would be in your best interests to find out who is behind your wife's 'accident' before she's targeted again," Fox conceded.

"Did you get anything from Gotham P.D.?"

"A copy of the investigation report on Dr. Wayne's accident was just faxed to me," Fox said. "It confirmed what the detective told Mr. Kent last night."

"So when she tried to brake and avoid hitting the man who ran in front of her car yesterday afternoon, there was no brake fluid left to initiate a stop," Bruce surmised. "The momentum must have caused her car to flip when she went over the embankment at the construction site."

"I've requested copies of the camera logs for the last 72 hours both from corporate security and the firm that works at the zoo," Fox told him. "Once I have them in hand, I'll have them delivered to your house so you can review them."

"Good Any word on the packages scheduled for delivery at the harbor tonight?"

The question referred to an incoming drug shipment that Lucius and Bruce had been tracking for close to a week.

"According to my source down on the docks, the merchandise will be arriving in a coffee shipment from Columbia shortly before midnight," Fox revealed.

"Is it being transported on a standard cargo ship or a private vessel?" Bruce asked.

"A private freighter called Bella del Mar," Fox told him. "The crew contingent is about half a dozen men, all mercenaries."

"Just another group of stalwart seamen making an honest living," Bruce responded sarcastically. "Thank you as always for your help, Lucius."

"I'm glad to be of service, Mr. Wayne," Fox demurred. "Be careful collecting your packages down at the harbor."

"I will be," Bruce assured him.

**GOTHAM HARBOR**

Mindful of the thick fog reducing visibility to almost nothing, the captain of the Bella del Mar carefully eased the ship into a berth in the harbor. Shutting off the engines, he exited the small cabin that served as the vessel's bridge and went in search of his crew. He found two of his men on deck securing the ship to the dock with ropes and gave them orders in Spanish to prepare for the unloading of the cargo.

From his perch atop the nearest warehouse, Batman was careful to keep out of sight of the mercenaries but within earshot of the dock. Hearing the captain's order to his men, he faded into the fog and made his way off the building. Using the other buildings for cover, he positioned himself about 100 feet from the dock where the ship was parked and settling into the darkness, waited for his opportunity to strike.

Unaware they were not alone, the men were talking amongst themselves as they began setting crates on the dock.

"This place is a hovel," the first man complained, speaking English in a voice heavy with a Latin accent. He was a tall man, but very thin and his face bore the traces of many years at sea.

"What did you expect?" the other man countered, obviously American, his short, burly frame a stark contrast to his comrade's. "It's not like we can deliver this stuff to the port in someplace like New York City or Los Angeles."

"Well it's not like some of the merchandise isn't going to wind up there anyway," the first man retorted. "Gotham isn't the only city in America with crack heads."

"It's bad manners to be insulting when you're visiting someone else's home," a raspy voice offered out of nowhere.

The men immediately whirled toward the sound as they withdrew guns from underneath their coats.

"Who's there?" the Latin man demanded.

There was no verbal response, but a pair of batarangs came flying out of the fog to knock the guns from the men's hands. A moment later a metal rope wrapped around the upper bodies of both men, pinning their arms to their sides.

"Capitan Morales!" the Latin man shouted. "We've got trouble!"

At the alarm call, the other four men came off the boat and walked over to join their captive friends.

"What's going on?" Morales demanded.

"I'm keeping your cargo out of my city," a voice declared from the darkness.

Morales turned toward the voice just as Batman materialized out of nowhere and struck him the face, knocking him to the ground. The other men needed no further invitation and immediately swarmed Batman. Dodging a blow from the first one, he retaliated with a spinning kick to his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. As the two remaining men launched themselves at him, Batman engaged the closest one and put him out of commission with a blow to the head.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you its bad manners to pick fights with strangers?" Batman asked dryly.

The final man rushed the detective, who sidestepped and sent him sprawling with a blow to the back of the head. Furious, the man scrambled to his feet and charged Batman again, only to have him turn and deliver a spinning kick to his jaw. The force of the blow sent him sprawling across the docks and he collapsed next to the Bella del Mar.

"Next time take the train," Batman suggested to the men.

After securing the mercenaries who were still conscious, Batman gathered the others and tied them all together next to the cargo boxes resting on the dock. Once they were all secured, he retreated back into the fog shrouded darkness and returned to the Batmobile, which was parked behind the warehouses he had been perched on earlier. Sliding inside, he pressed a button on the dashboard computer and it rang through to the direct line of Gotham City's Police Commissioner.

"Gordon," he answered curtly on the third ring.

"Good evening, Commissioner," Batman greeted.

"Batman," Gordon responded. "What can I do for you?"

"There's a shipment at Pier 27 at the harbor I think you and your men might be interested in," came the reply. "A little something extra came in with the Columbian coffee."

Gordon sighed. "Why am I not surprised?" he asked rhetorically. "Thanks for the information. By the way, do you know anything about this freak show carving up women like Christmas turkeys?"

Batman smiled slightly at the Commissioner's analogy. "The Butcher? No, not yet. Has anyone in your department worked up a psychological profile of him?"

"Our profiler has been trying, but unfortunately we don't have much to go on. The killer targets women between 20 and 40 and always attacks after dark when they're alone and in a semi-secluded area."

"Other than their gender do the victims have anything else in common?" Batman queried.

"Nothing obvious," Gordon answered. "Some were single, some married and they were of varying professions."

"I'll put stopping this slime bag at the top of my 'To Do' list," Batman replied, adding silently, _Right after uncovering whose trying to kill Jordan._

"Any help you can give us would be appreciated," Gordon responded. "I'll send some uniforms to pick up the shipment at the harbor."

Batman ended the call and waited in his car until a pair of squad cars and another unmarked police vehicle arrived to take the smugglers into custody. Once they were safely in police hands, he started the Batmobile and headed for home.

**WAYNE ENTERPRISES**

Arriving at Wayne Tower, Bruce flashed his assistant Jessica a friendly smile before making his way to his office. His desk was covered with various reports and miscellaneous papers, and he decided to quench his thirst before tackling the paperwork. Crossing over to the mini-bar on the other side of his office, he was filling a cup with water when Jessica walked inside.

"Good morning, Mr. Wayne," she greeted, and handed him the envelope she was holding. "This was just delivered for you."

"Thank you, Jessica," he responded, and tucked the file under his arm as he finished pouring his water. Returning to his desk, Bruce took a sip of water before setting his cup on the desk and shifting his attention to the envelope Jessica had given him. It was a plain white envelope that bore no return address, and his name was written across the front in unfamiliar handwriting.

"Something tells me this isn't a love letter from a secret admirer," Bruce deadpanned.

Grabbing a letter opener from the drawer, he gently broke the seal and dumped the contents onto his desk. Inside was a single sheet of letter paper folded in thirds, along with a pair of aged newspaper clippings that had yellowed with time. He unfolded the letter first and the message was a single typewritten line:

"Distraction is dangerous and compassion can be fatal."

Frowning, he set the letter aside and picked up the newspaper clippings. They were from the Gotham Herald and bore dates from over twelve years ago. They were the stories of Batman's successful prevention of the League of Shadows plot to contaminate Gotham's water supply with Crane's hallucinogenic insanity drug, along with the less noteworthy story of Bruce's presumed drunken binge that had resulted in the complete fire destruction of Wayne Manor.

"It would seem somebody knows more than they should about my past," Bruce muttered out loud.

Reaching over to pick up his phone, Bruce dialed the extension for Lucius' office.

"Lucius, it's me."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?" Fox asked.

"Would you please join me in my office? I just received a delivery I think you should see."

"I'll be right there."

Bruce took another sip of water as he waited for Fox and by the time he had finished his beverage, there was brief knock and his friend and CEO walked into his office, closing the door behind him.

"Good morning, Mr. Wayne," he greeted.

"Good morning, Lucius," Bruce returned and handed him the note and newspaper clippings. "These were just delivered to me."

Fox took the items from Bruce and quickly read the note, then glanced at the headline of each article before returning his attention to Bruce.

"Looks like somebody is trying to resurrect a bit of your personal history," he remarked.

"If I were a betting man, I would wager that the 'somebody' in question is also the person responsible for the attempt on Jordan's life," Bruce replied.

Lucius took a moment to digest Bruce's statement before calmly asking, "Respectfully, sir, isn't that a big presumption?"

"Not necessarily, Lucius. If we assume for the moment that whoever sent me these articles knows about my extracurricular activities, and that the person in question is out for revenge, my family would be the most logical target."

"Excluding yourself," Fox suggested.

"Including myself," Bruce countered. "If somebody wants to make me suffer, what better way than to kill the person I love the most? Killing me would obviously not cause me any anguish, but taking Jordan away from me would emotionally destroy me."

Fox sighed. "If as you say, this person knows your secret, wouldn't they also know the danger involved in targeting Dr. Wayne or anyone else you care about?" he prompted.

"It would have to be somebody who feels that they have nothing to lose," Bruce answered.

"Any ideas?"

The innocent question earned Fox a genuine chuckle from Bruce. "Would you like the list alphabetically or in order of importance, Lucius?" he asked wryly.

Fox smiled. "I understand the sentiment, Mr. Wayne, but obviously not all of your adversaries know about your alter ego," he pointed out. "The list of those who do is presumably a short one."

"It is, which begs the question, who are we dealing with?"

"When you have the answer to that question, Mr. Wayne, you'll have the answer to the question of who is trying to kill your wife," Lucius replied.

"I'm going to have to take a trip down memory lane to try and determine who I would have crossed paths with in both areas of my life that could have made the connection," Bruce remarked. "Once I figure out who we're dealing with, I'll decide on the best way to handle it from there."

Lucius nodded. "Of course, sir. By the way, the Johnson family was very appreciative that the company picked up the tab for Whitney's funeral. They intend to express their appreciation by donating part of the money they would have spent on the service to the Wayne Charitable Foundation."

Bruce sighed. "I only hope I can get justice for their daughter, Lucius," he responded and his expression turned lethal. "If this Butcher is connected to whoever is targeting Jordan, it's going to be the last mistake they ever make."

**SOMEWHERE IN GOTHAM CITY**

As always, he was seated in a wheelchair in the center of the darkened room when the other man arrived.

"Is it done?" he asked.

"Yes," the younger man confirmed. "The first piece of the puzzle was delivered this morning."

"How did he react?"

"According to my source, he summoned his CEO to his office very shortly after its arrival."

He smiled. "That is excellent news. If the other pieces fall into place as quickly as the first one has, we should have the issue of Bruce Wayne and the elimination of his beautiful wife resolved by Christmas."

"When do you want to reveal the next piece of the puzzle?"

"Let's wait a day or two and see what the good detective and his minion can uncover on their own. It will make it so much easier if they do the work for us. In the meantime, I think its time to put some of your other skills to use and get you into Wayne Manor."

"I am assuming you all ready have something in mind."

"I understand that Dr. Wayne is in need of an accredited physical therapist."

"Consider it done."

**WAYNE MANOR**

On the fifth day following her accident, Jordan was ensconced in her home office, sorting through the latest round of medical reports from the zoo veterinary staff. Alexander was sleeping soundly in a bassinet in the corner of the room, while the twins were at the stables visiting the horses under the watchful eyes of Alfred.

"Well it looks like the wolves have been busy," Jordan said aloud to herself as she scanned one of the reports. "Kiowa is pregnant again."

The ring of the doorbell interrupted her musings and she cast a quick glance at her son to ensure he was not awakened by the resulting cacophony of barking from Harmony, who had been resting in the foyer guarding the front door.

"So much for teaching her not to bark every time the bell rings," Jordan muttered.

Grabbing the crutches propped beside her chair, she awkwardly got to her feet and issued a curt "Stay, Hero" to the dog laying beside her before hobbling out of the room and to the front door to greet her visitor.

"Harmony, down!" she admonished and the dog immediately fell silent as Jordan balanced on her good leg to open the door. Her eyes widened in surprise when she discovered her birth father, Nicholas Ashton, standing on the doorstep.

"Nicholas…"

"I'm pleased to see you are up and about after your recent brush with death, Dr. Wayne," Ashton declared with mock formality.

Jordan smiled. "It's nice to see you too, Your Grace," she responded.

Father and daughter exchanged a hug before Ashton glanced at Harmony. "I trust that beast at your side has been properly fed today?"

"I am assuming you didn't come all the way here from England merely to poke fun at my dogs?" Jordan prompted as she stepped aside to allow him entry.

"No, I am here because your mother was gracious enough to call me and tell me about your accident," Ashton answered. "Frankly I was rather annoyed that the news didn't come from you or your husband."

"I'm sorry about that, but I asked Bruce not to contact you," Jordan explained. "I didn't want you worrying over nothing."

"I'd hardly call someone trying to kill you nothing, Jordan," Nicholas admonished.

"I'll second that," Alfred added from behind them, shadowed by Trouble, Kaya and Evan.

It took a moment for the twins to recognize Ashton, but when they did, they quickly came over to wrap themselves around his legs. Trouble eyed him warily from beside Alfred, but when Jordan gave no sign of being disturbed by Ashton's presence, the big dog relaxed.

"Hi, Grandpa," Evan greeted.

"Hi, Grandpa," Kaya echoed.

"Hello, little ones," Ashton returned affectionately and glanced at Alfred. "Hello, Alfred. It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Nicholas," Alfred responded. "I assume you're here because of Miss Jordan's latest escapade?"

Ashton was saved from having to respond by the ring of the doorbell again and Jordan swiftly instructed the dogs to remain silent as Alfred walked over to open the door. Outside was Jordan's physical therapist, an Asian woman in her late 30's named Xia Tan, and she flashed Alfred a friendly smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Pennyworth. I'm here for my session with Dr. Wayne."

"Of course, Miss Tan," Alfred said. "Please come in."

Xia stepped inside and as soon as the dogs spotted her, they rose to their feet and began growling under their breath.

"Trouble, Harmony, down!" Jordan ordered.

"Why don't you and Miss Tan head for the gym and get started on your therapy session, Miss Jordan?" Alfred suggested. "I'll keep the dogs out of the way until you've finished."

"Thanks, Alfred. Alexander and Hero are both asleep in my office."

"I'll check in on them shortly," Alfred assured her.

"Nicholas, I hope you'll join us for dinner."

"Actually, I was hoping to impose upon your hospitality and stay in one of your guest rooms while I am here," Ashton replied. "Apparently there is some sort of convention happening in the city and the hotels are all full."

"I'll set him up in one of the guest rooms in the East Wing, Miss Jordan," Alfred interjected.

Jordan gave him a grateful smile before she and Xia headed for the gym. Once they were out of earshot, Ashton addressed his father.

"I was under the impression that despite their size, Jordan's dogs were friendly," he remarked.

"They usually are," Alfred responded. "However, for some reason they don't like her physical therapist."

"Well I have no doubt that Bruce had the young lady's credentials checked and rechecked, but frankly I often find animals are more astute judges of character than Humans."

"Has Miss Jordan been coaching you again, Nicholas?"

"Maybe just a bit," Ashton allowed.

**WAYNE ENTERPRISES**

In his office, Bruce was preparing to leave for the day when a knock sounded at his door and at his invitation to enter, Fox walked into the room.

"Do you have a minute, Mr. Wayne?" he prompted.

"Actually I was getting ready to head for home to pick up Jordan," Bruce replied. "We're supposed to attend a fundraiser for Wayne Conservation tonight at the hotel."

"If you can spare the time, I've got something you'll want to see," Fox returned.

"What do you have for me?"

Fox handed him a small box. "These are the disks from the security cameras at the zoo and here at Wayne Tower," he told him. "Based on the police report, the brake lines on Dr. Wayne's car were severed about 48 hours prior to her accident, so I have the disks for those two days."

"Have you seen any of them?" Bruce asked.

"Not yet. I just received them about ten minutes ago and brought them directly to you."

"Let's take these to the conference room and start reviewing them. Hopefully there will be something on here that will give us an idea of who sabotaged Jordan's car."

The men made their way to the conference room and after closing the door behind them, Bruce settled himself at the table as Fox set up the monitor and laptop so they could view the disks.

"Do you want to start with the disks from the zoo or from here?" Fox asked.

"Let's start with our own disks," Bruce answered. "Our parking structure isn't quite as public as the zoo's and is most likely where Jordan's car was tampered with."

Fox nodded in acknowledgement and sorted through the disks, then pulled one out and slid it into the recorder.

"This is the disc from the day before the accident," he said.

Retrieving the remote control from atop the machine, Fox sat in a chair next to Bruce as the playback began. To save time, Fox fast forwarded through the video until the men saw Jordan's custom made Explorer Hybrid pull into a parking space in plain view of the camera.

"Play it from here and let's see if anyone approaches her while she's still in the parking area," Bruce instructed.

Fox pressed the button on the remote to switch the video to normal speed and the men watched the video in patient silence as Jordan exited her car. She hung her purse on one shoulder and pulled her computer carrying case out of the car before setting her alarm and making her way inside the building. Fox and Bruce sat through another ten minutes before the latter spoke again.

"Obviously no one approached her or the car while she was within view," Bruce said. "Hit the fast forward button again and we'll see if anyone shows up later in the recording."

"Right," Fox agreed.

They had gone about halfway through the recording when something suddenly caught Bruce's eye.

"Lucius, stop the video," he instructed. "Rewind it a bit and then hit play."

Fox did as requested as he asked, "Did you see something?"

"I think so."

Once the video was playing at regular speed, Bruce leaned forward in his chair to get a closer view just as a slender man wearing what appeared to be a mechanic's coveralls and a tool belt approached Jordan's SUV. He wore a cap so it was difficult to see his face and he took his time looking around to ensure he was not being watched before pulling on a pair of gloves and settling himself on the ground to crawl under Jordan's car.

"Well, well, what have we here," Fox remarked. "Anybody you know?"

"I didn't see his face well enough to know one way or another," Bruce responded. "Let's see if he gives us a look at him when he's done with his sabotage."

It only took a couple of minutes for the man to tinker with Jordan's car and once he was done he rose to his feet and removed the gloves as he again glanced around to make certain he was still alone. As he began to walk away the man raised his head slightly, giving Bruce enough of a facial view to determine his features were Asian, but he was not anyone Bruce recognized.

"This fellow is rather sure of himself, isn't he?" Fox remarked as he stopped the recording.

"I hope he knows he signed his own death warrant when he tampered with Jordan's car," came Bruce's menacing response. "I want an enlarged print out of this bastard's face."

"Planning on using it for wallpaper on your dartboard?" Fox inquired dryly.

"Actually I'm going to show it to Jordan on the off chance she might remember seeing him hanging around the garage when she pulled in that morning."

Fox nodded. "Give me a few minutes to work some computer magic and I'll have the picture for you," he said.

"Thanks, Lucius."

**GOTHAM REGENCY HOTEL**

A couple of hours later, Jordan and Bruce were in the main ballroom of their hotel, acting as hosts for the Wayne Conservation International fundraiser being held there. Leaving his father-in-law at home to watch the children, Bruce had enlisted Alfred to drive him and Jordan to the fundraiser. Along the way, he had filled him in on what he and Fox had discovered on the security disk.

"It seems quite obvious, Master Wayne, that this fellow on the security video and whoever he may be working with want you to uncover who they are," Alfred had said.

"That seems to be the general consensus, Alfred," Bruce allowed.

"So does that make them overconfident or just stupid?" Jordan asked.

"Both," was Bruce's answer.

After spending an appropriate amount of time mingling after their arrival, Jordan and Bruce had retreated to a far corner of the room, neither of them in a mood for general niceties. Jordan was still recovering from her accident and Bruce was distracted by his thoughts over who was after her. Seated directly next to Jordan at one of the small dining tables, Bruce shifted his attention from the other people present to his wife.

"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.

Jordan graced him with a small smile. "My knee is hurting and I'd rather be at home alone with you, but otherwise I'm just fine," she responded.

Bruce smiled back. "If you want to make a discreet exit, we can go find Alfred and have him bring the car around," he said.

"That is the best offer I've had all night," Jordan declared. "I need to make a quick pit stop and then let's blow this joint."

Bruce helped her to her feet. "Can you make it across the room solo?" he asked.

"If anyone gives me any trouble, I'll whack them with a crutch," Jordan quipped.

Bruce's smile widened and he pressed a kiss to her cheek before she adjusted her crutches and headed into the crowd. Sipping at a glass of champagne, Bruce kept an eye on her until she vanished into the restroom. No sooner had she left his line of vision than Bruce felt a hand on his shoulder and his body went taut with tension as he turned expectantly. Gotham's Mayor, Harry Minden, stood a couple of feet away, his face creased in an overly bright smile.

"Bruce…good to see you again," the mayor greeted cheerfully, clutching a glass of champagne in one hand as he extended the other to Bruce.

"Mayor Minden," Bruce returned, his posture easing as they shook hands.

The mayor was about ten years Bruce's senior, with a receding hairline that did nothing to compliment his rotund features, a result of a lifetime of various overindulgences.

"Quite the shindig you and your wife have put on here tonight," Minden remarked and cast a wary eye at the jungle like décor. "Although I feel like I should be wearing bug repellant instead of cologne."

_So do I,_ Bruce echoed silently. Aloud he said, "I'm pleased that you were able to fit the fundraiser into your schedule."

"I heard about Dr. Wayne's car accident. How is she feeling?"

"Jordan is doing very well, thank you."

"Is she here this evening?"

Bruce permitted himself a faint smile at Minden's seemingly innocent question. Although never foolish enough to hit on Jordan, especially in front of Bruce, it was quite clear to the Waynes that the mayor definitely had a crush of sorts on her.

"Jordan stepped away for a moment to use the facilities and then we'll be heading home," Bruce revealed. "She's still recovering from the accident, so we're going to call it a night."

Minden nodded. "Of course. Well, please give her my best, won't you? Maybe the three of us can have lunch when Dr. Wayne is feeling better."

"I'll mention it to her," Bruce evaded.

Unaware she was the topic of discussion elsewhere, Jordan was cautiously making her way back across the room when a tall, slender Asian man bumped into her.

"Excuse me, Dr. Wayne," he replied, speaking accented English. "I hope I did not aggravate your injured leg."

Jordan managed a polite smile. "I'm fine," she assured him.

The man nodded and withdrew a small blue flower from his lapel, which he handed to Jordan. "To match the blue of your eyes," he replied smoothly.

"Thank you," Jordan responded automatically. "Since you obviously know my name, perhaps you would return the courtesy and tell me yours?"

The man's smile widened. "Please tell Mr. Wayne that Henri Ducard sends his regards," he answered and inclining his head in a silent gesture of farewell, he vanished into the crowd.

"Why do I feel a sudden need to take a shower?" Jordan asked herself out loud.

Shifting her attention to the odd flower he had given her, Jordan brought it to her nose for a tentative sniff and frowned at the strong scent.

"Not exactly as fragrant as a rose," she muttered.

Bruce found her then and smiled at her odd expression. "What's with the frown, Princess?" he prompted. "Did they run out of hand towels in the Ladies room?"

"I just had a very odd encounter," Jordan clarified. "A strange man 'accidentally' bumped into me and addressed me by name, then he handed me this flower and asked me to tell you that 'Henri Ducard sends his regards'."

Bruce's amusement faded upon hearing the name of his erstwhile nemesis and he took the flower from Jordan as he quickly scanned the room for his foe. "What did he look like?" he inquired coolly.

Jordan's own smile faded as she recognized the tone in his voice as that of Batman. "He was about your age, tall and slender and was of Asian descent," she told him. "Who is this Ducard person to you?"

"An old ghost," Bruce replied, his eyes flashing black fire as he returned his gaze to Jordan. "Come on; I need to get you home."

Both curious and concerned about her husband's sudden change of demeanor, Jordan wordlessly allowed Bruce to escort her from the hotel.

**WAYNE MANOR**

The following afternoon, Jordan was in the back yard holding a dozing Alexander, who was sleeping soundly after finishing his afternoon bottle. The twins were also napping inside the house under Alfred's watchful eyes, while Nicholas tended to business in the city. Seated beside Jordan as she held their son, Bruce glanced up every few minutes to casually survey their surroundings. Her encounter last night with the man he now knew to be Ra's al Ghul's assassin had rattled him more than he cared to admit and he was unwilling to risk a repeat performance, especially in his own home.

He came into my home and nearly destroyed everyone I care about once before, he mused angrily. It won't happen a second time.

"You're going to give yourself permanent creases in your forehead if you keep frowning like that, Handsome," Jordan observed from beside him.

The light jibe dispersed his grim thoughts and Bruce gave his wife an affectionate smile. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, Princess," he returned. "Everyone knows that you're the one with the looks in this family."

"You looked like quite the unhappy camper just now. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I doubt they're worth that much."

"I'll raise the price to a quarter if you'll tell me why the mention of Henri Ducard's name last night rattled your cage so thoroughly," Jordan pressed.

Bruce released a heavy sigh. "Henri Ducard is an alias used by the man I knew as Ra's al Ghul," he clarified.

Jordan's eyes widened in surprise. Shortly after their marriage, Bruce had shared with her the full story of how and why he had become Batman, beyond the murder of his parents, as well as the real reason Wayne Manor had burned to the ground so many years ago.

"You told me he was dead," she replied.

"Up until last night I thought he was," Bruce responded. "It was virtually impossible for him to have survived the train crash, but I don't know of anyone else in the League of Shadows that would go through so much trouble to get to me through you."

"Newsflash, Bruce; most of your enemies usually try to get to you through me, even the ones who don't know your secret. It's the same reason Luthor and the rest of Superman's enemies target Lois. Obviously these people don't know that your alter egos are our respective husbands, but they do know that for whatever reason the two of you favor us."

"I imagine you and Lois must compare interesting notes," Bruce quipped. "Ever wish you had married one of your fellow scholastic types and settled into a nice, suburban life without all of the drama that comes with sharing my life?"

Jordan snorted. "I won't even dignify that with a response," she retorted irritably. "And if you ever ask me such an asinine question again, it will cost you a fourth dog and a fourth child."

Bruce smiled. "I'll make a note of it," he demurred.

"Assuming for the moment that you are dealing with the same man, why did he wait so long to seek his revenge?" Jordan asked.

Bruce glanced meaningfully at Alexander. "I have more to lose now than I did twelve years ago," he answered. "He can't touch me from a business standpoint, but that's not his style anyway. If Ra's is still alive and after revenge, the most effective method would be to destroy me emotionally."

"If he wants me dead, he's got an arsenal of assassins at his disposal. Why go through the trouble of having one of them tamper with my car?"

"He has to make it look like an accident to avoid involving the police, but still find a way to let me know he's responsible."

"Hence the little encounter with the man at the hotel last night," Jordan mused.

"Sooner or later he's going to take another shot at you, Jordan," Bruce cautioned.

"Or the children," Jordan countered solemnly and glanced down protectively at her sleeping son. "I'll kill him myself if he so much as looks at them the wrong way."

"Actually I am fairly certain that he is keeping his attention focused on you," Bruce returned. "Ra's is all about 'an eye for an eye' and having known the pain of losing his own wife many years ago, he intends to inflict that same agony onto me."

"I wonder if the loss of his wife is what set him on his path of corruption," Jordan mused.

"That kind of emotional trauma could certainly have overshadowed his morality and caused him to become the man he was when he found me," Bruce allowed. "But the reasons why he is who he is no longer matter. He made his choice the moment he had one of his men try to kill you."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Alfred, who approached them with Clark in tow. All three dogs glanced up expectantly at their arrival, but recognizing Clark, they returned their attention to squirrel watching.

"You have a visitor, Miss Jordan," Alfred announced and gestured at the baby. "If Master Alexander is done with his lunch, I'll take him inside to finish his nap in the nursery."

"Thank you, Alfred," Jordan said and gently pressed a kiss to Alexander's head before relinquishing him to his great-grandfather.

"He looks the same as you did at this age when you were asleep Master Bruce," Alfred remarked. "Although I daresay young Alexander isn't quite as contrary as you were about taking your naps."

"Thank you for sharing that, Alfred," Bruce remarked dryly.

Alfred smiled to himself as he retreated back into the house.

"Hello, Big Brother," Jordan directed at Clark. "This is a nice surprise."

"I hope you don't mind me showing up unannounced," Clark replied as they exchanged a quick hug.

"Having family members show up out of the blue seems to be a running theme here these days," Bruce replied dryly. "Nicholas showed up on our doorstep yesterday after he got your mom's call about Jordan's accident."

Clark nodded in acknowledgement as he gave his sister a quick once over. "You seem to be doing all right," he observed. "How are you feeling?"

"All things considered I'm doing fine," Jordan answered. "I get the stitches out of my forehead in a few days and I've started the physical therapy for my knee."

"Any new developments regarding the identity of the person trying to kill you?"

Jordan glanced meaningfully at Bruce, who responded in her stead.

"Ra's al Ghul," he revealed.

Clark's surprise was evident in his expression. "The man who trained you and then tried to kill you twelve years ago?" he prompted. "I thought he was killed in the train derailment after you foiled his plan to pollute the water system."

"That's what I thought too, but the man he had tamper with Jordan's car approached her at the fundraiser last night," Bruce told him.

"I don't know if approaching her in public and in your presence was very brave or very foolish," Clark replied. "What happened?"

"He bumped into me when I was leaving the restroom," Jordan answered. "He made small talk for about a minute, then handed me an odd blue flower and told me to tell Bruce that Henri Ducard sends his regards."

"Henri Ducard was the alias Ra's al Ghul was using when he bailed me out of the jail in Asia to train me," Bruce clarified.

"If this is the same man, the timing makes sense," Clark allowed. "He lets you think he's dead all these years and waits until you have a family to target before seeking his revenge."

"Unfortunately his knowledge of my dual identity makes him that much more dangerous," Bruce replied. "He obviously has no qualms about attacking the people I care about on my turf and even in my home. I won't risk Jordan and the children by allowing him to make the same mistake twice."

Clark sighed. "Well short of sending them out of the city until you catch this guy – which I know you won't do – your options are limited," he said. "You're going to have to find a way to flush him out before his associate takes another shot at Jordan."

"I'm all ready working on it," Bruce replied.

As if on cue, Alfred rejoined them then and addressed Bruce. "Pardon me, Master Bruce, but Lucius is on the telephone for you."

"I'll be right there, Alfred," Bruce said and rose to his feet. At his side, Harmony got to her feet as well, sensing he was leaving and as always intending to follow him. The dog's devotion was not lost on Clark, who smiled as he spoke to his brother-in-law.

"And here I thought it was only Human females who followed you everywhere panting at your heels, Bruce," he quipped.

"You'd have more experience with that than I would, Superman," Bruce retorted pointedly and bent over to press a kiss to the top of Jordan's head. "Try to keep your brother out of trouble. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jordan responded with a warm smile as Bruce retreated into the house. Once he was gone, Clark addressed his sister.

"So how are you really holding up?" he prompted.

"I'm fine, Clark, honest," Jordan assured him. "Bruce and Alfred are taking their usual impeccable care of me and except for last night's little tete a tete, no one suspicious has come within 500 yards of me or the children."

"Frankly I'm surprised Bruce let you out of the house at all," Clark replied. "Any time you're in danger he practically glues you to his side."

Jordan shrugged. "Considering that he only met me because he was caught in the crossfire when a group of eco-terrorists tried to kill me, I'd say he has good reason to be overprotective," she said and glanced toward the house. "Bruce teases me about what my life would have been like if I had married someone less high profile, but sometimes I think he's the one who would have been better off not getting involved with me."

"Where did that come from?" Clark asked in surprise.

"Be honest, Clark; you know as well as I do that Bruce spent most of his life avoiding emotional commitments. The choices he made about how to conduct himself so no one would ever make the connection between Bruce Wayne and Batman included not marrying or having children. He felt that maintaining only casual relationships would be better for everyone involved, especially after that maniac who called himself the Joker killed Rachel Dawes all those years ago."

Clark gave his sister a reassuring smile. "Jordan, when you and Bruce first began seeing one another, I know that I was the one who protested the loudest for all the reasons you just mentioned," he allowed. "But I knew the first time I saw you with him that it was only a matter of time. He loves you, Jordan, with a passion I've never seen. And I know you love him just as deeply."

"That's not the issue, Clark," Jordan responded. "I'm worried that I might prove to be a fatal liability if he can't put aside enough of his concern for me to focus on bringing down Ra's."

"Bruce knows what he's doing, Jordan. I understand your concern, but I have complete confidence that he can handle Ra's al Ghoul."

"Bruce thought so too twelve years ago."

Clark placed a hand on her arm in a silent gesture of reassurance. "Because he underestimated the evil that drives Ra's," he countered. "He never makes the same mistake twice."

Inside the house, Bruce had made his way to his study to take his phone call from Lucius and sat behind his desk as he picked up the receiver.

"What have you got for me, Lucius?" he prompted without preamble.

"It appears that the reports of Henri Ducard's death may have been premature after all," Fox answered.

"What did you find?"

"I worked some internet magic and came across a series of medical records from late 2000 that originated from a small clinic just outside of Paris. The patient's name was Henri Paul Ducard."

"What do they say he was treated for?" Bruce asked.

"The most significant injuries mentioned were several shattered vertebrae resulting in total paralysis from the waist down, various broken bones and internal injuries and third degree burns over eighty-five percent of his body."

"I can only imagine how deep his hatred of me must run if he overcame all of that simply to seek revenge," Bruce remarked grimly.

"If I may say so, Mr. Wayne, this makes it even more obvious that he won't stop his efforts to kill Dr. Wayne until he succeeds," Fox replied. "It might be prudent to risk her temper by insisting she avoid public appearances until you've eliminated Ra's."

"I think that both of us will be working from home for the foreseeable future, Lucius," Bruce concurred. "I'm not going to risk a repeat performance of what happened twelve years ago by leaving her alone to be a target."

"I've emailed you the information from the clinic," Fox told him. "If there's anything else you need, you know where to find me."

"Thank you for your help, Lucius. I'll be in touch."

Bruce replaced the receiver in its cradle and released a heavy sigh just as Clark entered the room.

"Trouble at the office?" he prompted.

Bruce glanced up at his friend. "Lucius has found proof that Ra's al Ghul is alive," he revealed. "And given what he had to endure to stay that way, the target on Jordan's back just got a whole lot bigger."

"Well if it's any consolation, I know that she's in the safest hands she can be in," Clark replied.

"I appreciate you saying so. Speaking of my wife, I am assuming you didn't leave her alone to come find me?"

"Nicholas just came back from the city and he's visiting with her," Clark told him. "With everything that's going on, it might be a good idea to suggest Nicholas cut his visit short. I don't want to think about what it would do to Jordan if he gets caught in the crossfire of your private war with Ra's al Ghul."

"Your sister is one step ahead of you," Bruce said and rose to his feet. "Jordan made the same request to me this morning and I spoke with Nicholas before he left for his business meeting. He'll be heading out tonight on a late evening flight once the children are asleep."

"As long as we're back on the subject of my baby sister, I need to let you in on the little chat we had a few minutes ago."

"Dare I ask?"

"She's 'wondering out loud' if perhaps you might have been better off avoiding a relationship with her."

"She can't seriously believe that," Bruce protested.

"Well it's becoming obvious that your unfinished business with Ra's al Ghul has upset her more than she's willing to admit," Clark replied.

Bruce released another sigh. "I should have known she was taking all of this a little too well," he said. "The less riled she gets, the more frightened she is. I'll go talk to her."

"That would be a very good idea."

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"I need to get back to Metropolis," Clark declined. "However if you or Jordan need anything, I'm only a phone call away."

"Thanks, Clark. Give our best to Lois and Jason."

"Will do."

Clark made his way out of the Manor as Bruce headed outside with Harmony in tow to rejoin Nicholas and Jordan. They were sharing a chuckle at a private joke when he approached and he smiled as he inquired about the source of their amusement.

"Care to share the joke?" Bruce prompted.

"I was just telling Jordan that I ran into your Mayor, Mr. Minden, as I was leaving my meeting and he was very eager for an update on her condition," Nicholas said.

"How did he know who you are to Jordan?"

"One of my associates revealed that I'm her father when he introduced us," Nicholas answered. "Apparently everyone but the Mayor knows that they know he has a not so secret crush on your lovely wife."

"Minden's harmless enough," Jordan remarked. "Did Clark head back to Metropolis?"

Bruce nodded. "He said to call him if we need anything," he replied.

Nicholas rose to his feet. "Well I should get my business settled and start packing," he said. "I will leave the two of you to enjoy one another's company and I'll see you at dinner."

The Duke retreated into the house and Bruce assumed his position in the chair opposite Jordan. "The two of you seemed to be enjoying yourselves," he remarked. "It was good to hear you laugh again."

Jordan smiled. "Nicholas does a wicked imitation of Minden," she said. "He claims that our obsequious Mayor would be more effective at his job if he spent more time working and less time fawning over people he considers 'elite'."

"I have to agree with that," Bruce responded. "Before he left, Clark mentioned that you two had an interesting little chat."

"So much for sibling confidentiality," Jordan quipped.

"I hope you don't honestly believe that I would have been better off not becoming involved with you."

"The majority of the time I don't, but when something like this latest assault on me happens, a little voice in my head starts chastising me that maybe I should have left you well enough alone five years ago."

Bruce half stood only long enough to seat himself next to her and reached over to take her hands in his. "I knew exactly what I was doing when I decided to pursue a relationship with you, Jordan," he replied. "I'm certainly not going to deny that it upsets me when you're targeted by someone who wants to get to me…"

"Actually to be perfectly accurate it pisses you off," Jordan interjected dryly, earning her an admonishing glance from Bruce as he continued.

"But that is far outweighed by the joy having you and our children in my life has brought me. I love you and there is nothing that will ever make me regret that."

"Even if there comes a day when one of your enemies succeeds in killing me?"

"Even if."

Bruce's solemn tone made it obvious he meant what he said and he paused a moment to allow Jordan to absorb it before continuing.

"We discussed this after we reconciled five years ago, Jordan, and nothing has changed. While I will always do everything within my power to ensure nothing ever happens to you or the children, I'm also aware that even with Clark as back-up, there's no 100 guarantee that I can keep all of you safe. I've lived with loss before and would do it again, but I can't and won't regret the time we've had together."

Jordan released a small sigh and glanced down at their intertwined hands as she idly rubbed her thumb over Bruce's wedding band. "I'm scared, Bruce," she confessed softly. "Having some anonymous psycho target me because he thinks I'm Batman's girlfriend is one thing, but Ra's al Ghoul knows that I'm your wife. What if he decides that killing you would be his best revenge because he knows what it would do to me and I don't have the ability to stop him?"

Jordan's seemingly casual question caused the real reason for her trepidation to belatedly dawn on Bruce.

_That's where all of this extra anxiety is coming from_, he mused silently. _She's not worried about herself; she's worried about me._

"I appreciate your concern, Princess, but that's not the way Ra's thinks," Bruce told her. "If he kills me, I don't suffer and I'm not here to see the people I care about suffer. That's why he wants to kill you, because he knows what it would do to me."

"Let me know when you get to the part where any of this is supposed to make me feel better," Jordan responded drolly.

"Frankly I don't think either of us is going feel much better until I take care of Ra's al Ghul once and for all," Bruce replied honestly. "But I need you to know that I have no regrets or doubts about being with you. We've fought too long and too hard to build our family to let Ra's or anybody else tear it apart."

"Well you've never let me down before, Handsome, so here's hoping you don't start now," Jordan said. "I love you and I'm sorry if I upset you with my insecurities."

"You can talk to me about anything, Jordan; you know that."

"I do. It's just with all of this other stuff going on I didn't want to add anything more to your plate."

"I'm touched by your concern, but I assure you I can deal with whatever you want to tell me, any time you want to tell it to me."

Jordan smiled. "I'll make a note of that."

Bruce smiled back. "See that you do."

**SOMEWHERE IN GOTHAM CITY**

He hated being summoned like this, as if he were a dog that was required to heel upon command and come when called. Yet he knew all too well the choice to disobey would a fatal one, as Ra's al Ghul was not a man to be crossed in any manner, and he held his tongue as he entered the near dark room.

"You have a task for me?"

"Yes, Dao," came the raspy response. "It seems that Wayne and his minion are more resourceful than I gave them credit for and have managed to uncover my stay at the clinic in Paris twelve years ago."

"I thought you wanted them to uncover the truth."

"I do, but I wasn't prepared for them to do so as quickly as they have."

"What do you require of me?" Dao prompted.

"I think its time to remind the Dark Knight what fate befalls the curious," Ra's said. "Have the message delivered by way of his lovely wife."

"Do you want her killed?"

"Not quite yet. I merely want to give Batman a final reminder of the consequences of his actions twelve years ago before we make our final move against Dr. Wayne."

**WAYNE MANOR**

On the one-week anniversary of Jordan's accident, Bruce had taken her into the city to have the stitches in her forehead removed. Alfred had stayed behind to watch over the children and was in the process of feeding them lunch when Fred Barnes, the man in charge of the Wayne stables, walked into the dining room.

"Excuse me, Alfred, but is either Mr. Wayne or Dr. Wayne at home?" he inquired.

"Master Wayne took Miss Jordan into town to have her stitches removed," Alfred answered. "May I help you with something?"

Barnes cast an anxious glance at the children. "May we talk in the other room?" he requested pointedly.

"Certainly."

After instructing the twins to stay put and ensuring Alexander was safely strapped into his high chair, Alfred escorted Barnes out of the dining room. Once they were safely out of earshot, Alfred addressed his colleague.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Barnes?" he prompted.

"I think Mr. Wayne is going to want to beef up the security patrols of the property," Barnes said. "One of the new grooms, Henry, was cleaning the stalls at the far end of the stables and found Dr. Wayne's dog Hero lying dead in the tack room. And it was brutally obvious that the dog didn't die of natural causes."

Alfred frowned. "Are you saying that someone deliberately killed him?"

"Yes, sir. Hero's head was severed and left on a shelf in the room. This was propped against the body on the floor."

Barnes handed him the sheet of paper that he was clutching, which was obviously spattered with blood. Alfred unfolded it to find a grim, one sentence message typed on the paper.

_Curiosity doesn't kill only cats._

"Bloody hell…" Alfred muttered and returned his attention to Barnes. "Who else knows about his besides yourself and the groom who found the remains?"

"No one," Barnes said. "Henry was so shook up at what he found, I sent him home and then came straight up to the house after I locked the room."

"Make certain that no one else goes into that room until Mr. Wayne has contacted the police," Alfred instructed. "In the meantime, please ensure all of the horses that are out in the pasture are returned to their stalls and locked inside."

"Yes, sir. What about the other dogs?"

"Trouble and Harmony are roaming about the house, so I'll make certain that they are kept inside," Alfred responded and released a sigh. "I don't know how I'm going to break this to Miss Jordan."

"Break what to me, Alfred?" Jordan prompted from behind him.

Barnes and Alfred turned to see Jordan and Bruce standing a few feet away, obviously having just returned from their trip into the city.

"I'm going to go round up the horses," Barnes said to no one in particular, and acknowledged the Waynes with a brief half-smile before beating a hasty retreat.

"What's going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"There's been an incident at the stables, Master Bruce," Alfred told him and shot a sympathetic glance at his granddaughter before continuing. "One of the grooms discovered Hero lying in the tack room a short while ago."

"Is he hurt?" Jordan prompted.

"I'm afraid he's dead, Miss Jordan," Alfred answered solemnly and shifted his attention to Bruce.

"Apparently someone left his body there along with this note."

Alfred handed Bruce the note and the younger man's face creased into an angry scowl as he read it.

"That sick son of a bitch…." he muttered.

"I want to see Hero," Jordan requested tightly.

"I would advise against that, Miss Jordan," Alfred replied.

"I want to see my dog," Jordan insisted, controlled grief and rage evident in her expression.

Alfred met Bruce's inquiring gaze and gave a discreet shake of his head, a silent signal to Bruce that he should not allow her to witness what had been done to her beloved pet.

"Jordan," Bruce interjected gently, placing his hands on her arms. "I understand how upset you are, but I agree with Alfred. I don't think you need to see Hero right now. Why don't you go into the dining room and tell the children what's happened while Alfred and I deal with finding out who did this."

"Don't patronize me, Bruce!" Jordan snapped, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek. "You know damn well that Ra's al Ghul killed Hero to send you a signal that he still intends to try to do the same to me."

Bruce stiffened at the implication. "Ra's and his men aren't going to touch you again, Jordan."

"Maybe not, but you'd better make damn sure you stop this bastard before he decides to take out one of our children in lieu of one of our dogs," Jordan countered bitterly.

Without waiting for a response, Jordan turned on her crutches and made her way out of the room. Once she was gone, Bruce returned his attention to Alfred.

"What did they do to Hero?" he asked curtly.

"According to Mr. Barnes, the poor dog's head was severed and left on a shelf in the tack room, with his body and the note laying beneath it on the floor."

Bruce grimaced at the gruesome mental image. "Well I suppose we should be grateful that it wasn't Jordan or one of the twins who discovered him," he said. "Is he still in the tack room?"

"Yes, sir. I instructed Mr. Barnes to keep the stable hands out of the room until the police had examined it."

"For appearances sake, I'll put a call into Jim Gordon and ask him to send some uniforms over to examine the crime scene," Bruce replied. "In the meantime, until I have taken care of Ra's and his accomplices, neither Jordan not the children are to set foot outside of this house without one of us or Clark as an escort."

"Any ideas as to how one of Mr. al Ghul's' men got onto the property and murdered Hero without being noticed?"

"My instinct tells me that Jordan's physical therapist is part of Ra's web of spies. Even though the background check verified her professional credentials, it's too much of a coincidence that she knew where Jordan and I would be the night of the charity ball and most of this morning."

"Not to mention that the dogs don't seem to trust her either," Alfred added, earning him a faint smile from Bruce.

"Jordan is definitely rubbing off on you, old friend," he remarked.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Master Bruce."

"Jordan's next session with Xia Tan is tomorrow morning. I want to meet with her before she sees Jordan, but I don't want Jordan or Xia to know why."

"Of course, sir," Alfred agreed. "I will call Miss Tan and ask her to arrive a bit early."

"Thank you," Bruce said. "I'm going to call the Commissioner and then I need to check on Jordan and the children."

"For whatever it's worth, Master Bruce, I'm certain Miss Jordan isn't truly angry with you. You're just the most convenient target."

"I have no problem being subjected to my wife's infamous temper, Alfred. I'd rather have Jordan here alive and angry than have Ra's al Ghul succeed in taking her away from me."

Something dangerous flickered across his features and his tone went ice cold as Bruce added, "The bastard is going to wish he'd stayed dead."

Without waiting for a response, Bruce turned on his heel and left the room.

Ra's was so still when Dao and Xia entered the room that for a brief moment, they thought he might be asleep.

"Maybe we should have called before just showing up," Xia whispered.

"He only uses the phone to maintain contact with his people," Dao responded. "He won't answer if you call him."

From the darkened corner of the room, Ra's revealed his awareness of their presence with an irritated sigh.

"I suggest you stop speaking in hushed whispers as if I were unable to hear you and explain to me why you're here," he said coolly.

"We have a new problem, Master," Dao told him. "I believe that Wayne has uncovered Xia's connection to us."

"Is this a paranoid assumption or do you have proof?"

"Wayne's majordomo called me a short while ago and asked me to show up early for my session with Jordan Wayne tomorrow," Xia revealed. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him why; he just said Wayne wanted to talk with me about something before I met with his wife."

There was a slight squeak of the wheelchair as Ra's rolled out of the shadows and stopped a few feet in front of them, his expression unreadable.

"Were you seen by someone on his staff when you and Chan accessed the property to kill the dog?" he asked.

"Of course not," Xia assured him. "The dog was killed in the woods and we made certain to avoid encountering any of the stable hands when we placed the body in the tack room."

"And yet here you stand, convinced that you have been discovered," Ra's replied. "I have no time for insecurity and incompetence."

Reaching into a small pouch hanging on the side of the wheelchair, Ra's withdrew a small dagger and with a flick of his wrist, sent it flying into Xia's throat. His aim was deadly accurate and the blade sank deep into her jugular. Blood immediately began streaming from the wound and Xia's face registered her shock as she fell to the floor. Ignoring her as she bled to death at his feet, Ra's shifted his attention to Dao.

"Return to Wayne Manor with Chan and Ming and bring Jordan Wayne to me," he ordered. "And make certain you leave a trail that the Dark Knight can follow. I want to have the satisfaction of seeing Bruce Wayne's face when I carve his wife into pieces in front of him."

It had taken most of the afternoon for the officers from Gotham P.D. to examine the crime scene and get the details they needed for the official report on Hero's death. A search of the woods surrounding the estate had uncovered a small clearing near the main highway where Bruce's electrical fence had been sabotaged. Additional evidence in the form of the massive amount of Hero's blood found adjacent to the damaged fence made it obvious that the perpetrators had killed him there before taking his body to the stables. Despite Jordan's protests, the police had taken Hero's remains with them as part of the investigation and her inability to properly bury her precious pet had been salt in the wound on her heart.

After ensuring that Jordan, the children and the remaining dogs were safely ensconced in the house, Bruce had overseen the police as they rummaged about his property, keeping up the pretense that he was unaware of who was responsible for Hero's murder. Once they were gone, he made his way through the house in search of his wife, needing to know how she was holding up before he headed out for his evening patrol. As he strolled through the living room, Alfred was coming down the stairs and met him in the middle of the room.

"Have the police finished their business at the stables, sir?" Alfred asked.

"Yes; they're showing themselves off the property."

"What did they find?"

"A small portion of the fence on the eastern edge of the woods was cut through and Hero was killed there before being taken to the stables," Bruce answered. "That fence is supposed to be wired with close to a hundred thousand volts of electricity 24/7, so I'd like to know how the hell Ra's goons managed to sabotage it without getting fried like breakfast sausage."

Alfred sighed. "I'm afraid I may be partly to blame for that, Master Bruce," he confessed. "One of the landscapers came to me just before Mr. Barnes discovered Hero and told me that one of the workers had accidentally severed the power line to the back fence when they were clearing some brush. I was going to call the electrician to come rewire it this afternoon, but after poor Hero's body was discovered it slipped my mind."

"I appreciate your honesty, Alfred, but there is only one person I am holding responsible for the harm that has been inflicted on and around my family in the past week and it's time I made him pay for it," Bruce declared tightly. "Is Jordan upstairs?"

"Yes, sir. She was putting Master Alexander to bed and then mentioned she intended to take a bath."

"I'm going to check on her and then I am going to track down Ra's al Ghul to dispose of him permanently. In the meantime, I want you to call the electrician and have the fence repaired immediately. Tell him that I will pay triple his normal rate, but it has to be done tonight."

"Of course, sir."

Alfred headed toward the kitchen to make the call as Bruce started up the stairs No sooner had he reached the top than he heard a thud from the master bedroom just as Harmony went tearing down the hall toward the nursery growling as she ran and Trouble erupted into a cacophony of barking from the twins' room downstairs.

"Bruuucccee!!"

Jordan's terrified shout sent a chill down his spine and Bruce yelled down to Alfred as the older man came dashing out of the kitchen.

"Alfred, check on the twins!"

Alfred quickly headed for the children's bedroom as Bruce bolted into the Master Suite. He discovered a breathless Jordan hovering over the unconscious form of Ra's assassin Chan with one of her crutches clutched in her hand.

"Are you all right?" Bruce prompted.

"I'm fine. Please go check on Alexander."

Bruce swiftly left his bedroom and made his way to his son's room, where he discovered Harmony attacking Dao, while Alexander slept soundly in his crib. Unaware of the other man's arrival, Dao was trying vainly to fight off the large dog and managed to plant a kick to her ribs, temporarily freeing himself from her grip. Bruce took advantage of the moment to charge Dao and after a brief struggle, managed to bring the other man to his knees as he wrapped his arm around his neck.

"How many of there are you?" he demanded.

"Too many to be stopped even by you," Dao sneered. "You may succeed in stopping those of us here tonight, but there will be more of us to come and come we will until Ra's al Ghul succeeds in taking away from you what matters most."

"Where is he?"

When Dao remained stubbornly silent, Bruce tightened his grip on Dao's throat, slowly but effectively cutting off his air supply. "Where is he?" he repeated.

"The Master is waiting for you at the place where you destroyed his life a dozen years ago," Dao rasped.

"Then you and your friends can go scurrying back there and tell him that you delivered his message."

Bruce got to his feet and shoved Dao toward the window, and the other man shot him a hateful look before climbing out of the room. After carefully retrieving his sleeping son to ensure Dao could not return for him, Bruce returned to his bedroom with Harmony on his heels. Jordan met him in the doorway and he gave her a quick once over.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

Jordan shook her head. "Just a little spooked," she assured him. "I had just finished putting Alexander down and was walking through our bedroom to the bathroom when I was grabbed from behind. I managed to balance on my good leg long enough to whack him the groin with one of my crutches and when he collapsed I clocked him upside his head to knock him out."

Bruce ushered her into the hallway as Alfred joined them, his heavy breathing indicating he had run up the stairs.

"Is everyone up here all right?" he inquired.

"We're all fine, Alfred," Bruce told him. "How are the twins?"

"Master Evan and Miss Kaya are fine, sir," Alfred answered. "Trouble must have scared off whoever was in their room, because by the time I got there the room was empty and Trouble was standing at the window barking. I told the children that the Trouble was merely barking at some nocturnal creature and put them back to bed. I secured the room before I came up here and left Trouble with them to stand guard."

"Whoever tried to enter the house through the twins' room is undoubtedly now on his way back to Ra's with the one you fought to tell him that once again they failed to kill me," Jordan said.

"Then he'll be expecting me," Bruce declared. Gently handing Alexander to Alfred, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. He punched in a number and a moment later the familiar voice of his brother-in-law came on the line.

"Clark Kent."

"Clark, its me."

Clark instantly recognized the voice on the phone as Batman, not Bruce. "What's happened?"

"I'll explain when you get here, but I need you at the house now."

Bruce ended the call and glanced at Alfred. "After you and Clark dispose of this trash, make that call to the electrician and get him here first thing in the morning," he instructed. "I don't want him here tonight in case any more of Ra's assassins show up but I want this house and the entire estate hardwired with more security than the White House by this time tomorrow."

"Of course, Mister Wayne."

The sudden swoosh of air from the open window signaled Superman's arrival and he cast a concerned glance at the unconscious man on the floor as he flew through the bedroom to join the others in the hall.

"I take it Ra's al Ghul had his men take another shot at Jordan?" he prompted, anger evident in his expression.

"There were at least three of them," Bruce told him. "One of them came in through the master bedroom and the other two came in through the children's room downstairs and the nursery."

"Where are the other two?" Superman asked.

"Trouble scared off the one who tried to get in through the twins' room and I sent the one who came in through the nursery back to Ra's," Bruce told him.

"What about the one in your bedroom?"

"I took him out with one of my crutches," Jordan revealed.

Superman gave Jordan a surprised look. "You took out a professional assassin by whacking him with your crutch?" he inquired skeptically.

"Well I hit him in his family jewels first," Jordan responded blithely.

Superman shook his head as a sudden though occurred to him. "Aren't you missing one of your four legged children, specifically the black pony in dog's clothing you named in honor of your husband and me?"

A flash of fresh grief flickered across Jordan's elegant features as she softly replied, "Hero's dead. Ra's al Ghul's men killed him earlier today and left his body in the stables to send a message to Bruce that I was next."

"Oh, Jordan…I am so sorry."

Superman pulled her into his arms for a comforting hug and she said against his chest, "So am I."

"I don't know if Ra's is going to send any more men here tonight to try and finish what the first round started, so I need you to stay here with Alfred and watch over Jordan and the children," Bruce directed at Superman. "I'm going downstairs to change and then I'm going to put and end to my unfinished business with Ra's al Ghul once and for all."

Superman's expression made it clear that he did not approve of Bruce's plan, despite what Ra's had done to Jordan, but he knew from past experience that any protest he voiced would fall on deaf ears.

"Are you sure you don't need back-up?"

"This is between Ra's and me. But I need to know that my family is safe while I deal with him. That's why I called you."

"I understand."

Bruce shifted his attention to Jordan. There were no secrets between them and obviously Jordan knew what his darker side was capable of. Yet confessing to her face that he may have to kill a man essentially in cold blood, regardless of what Ra's al Ghul had done to them, made his stomach turn ever so slightly.

_Please tell me you're with me on this, Jordan,_ he pleaded silently. Aloud he said evenly, "You know why I have to do this."

"I know," came the simple reply.

Relief flooded through Bruce and he wordlessly pulled her into his arms to embrace her in a fierce hug. They held onto one another in silence for a moment before Jordan pulled back far enough to meet his gaze and flash him the ghost of a smile, her expression a cross between affection and apprehension.

"Come home to me."

"Always."

Bruce leaned over to give her a brief, bruising kiss before turning on his heel and heading for the Bat Cave.

Blackness. The stillness of the night was broken by a slight fizzle as some unknown insect met its fate upon colliding with a heated street lamp. In the midst of an empty neighborhood with litter strewn streets and abandoned buildings, the Batmobile slowly rolled to halt in front of a gated, windowless medical building, the former location of Arkham Asylum. Inside his car, Batman made an entry in the dash computer before shifting his gaze to the deserted building. He stared at it for a moment in silence as ghosts both old and new filtered through his mind.

_The stunned expressions of Thomas and Martha Wayne as they lay dying outside the opera house…_

_The pallor of Rachel's face as he poured the antidote to Crane's hallucinogenic drug down her throat…_

_The screams of Gotham's citizens as the inmates from Arkham infiltrated the masses…._

_The sight of Jordan lying still and ashen in the hospital following her car accident…_

_The gruesome scene of a decapitated Hero lying in the tack room…_

Shaking off his morbid thoughts, Batman double-checked the equipment on his utility belt before exiting the car to make his way inside. The interior was as unwelcoming as the exterior, the stench of old garbage and other odors better left unidentified causing his stomach to churn.

"This place needs some serious air freshener," he muttered to himself.

Near the entrance a pair of glass doors beckoned him, and he made his way across the litter and shards of glass and timber to carefully open one of the doors. Stepping inside what was once the main lobby, Batman flicked on the small flashlight he carried and took a cursory survey of his surroundings. Cobwebs and layers of filth covered the floor and walls. Far to his right, he spotted an open door leading to the stairwell, and strode across the room to make his way upstairs. The door allowing access to the second floor was locked, so Batman made his way up another flight and found the third floor access door slightly ajar. Shining his light in either direction, he discovered nothing more than puddles of water and additional trash lining the corridor.

_Ra's is here_, he thought to himself. _I can sense it_.

Stepping into the main hall, he discovered a small figure barely covered in dirty, ragged clothing sleeping against the wall. From the size of the still frame, he could tell it was merely a homeless street kid, no more than 15 years old. Bending over, he shook the boy awake and the teenager's eyes widened in fear upon seeing the Dark Knight hovering over him.

"Don't hurt me, Batman, please!" the youngster pleaded as he scrambled to his feet. "I wasn't doin' anything wrong, I swear! I was only tryin' to find a place to sleep away from the junkies that are always beatin' me."

"You shouldn't be here," Batman admonished in a harsh whisper.

Without giving the teenager a chance to respond, Batman gave him a hard shove toward the stairwell and the kid bolted for freedom.

"I see you are still suffocating yourself with frailties such as compassion for others," an all too familiar voice remarked from behind him.

Batman spun around as Ra's al Ghul wheeled himself out of the darkness, Dao and Ming on either side of him and a quartet of other ninjas behind them. His hands and face were covered in thick scar tissue from his burns and what remained of his once brown hair was now gray.

"An admonishment about compassion from a man whose underlings have twice failed him and yet still remain alive," Batman retorted.

"That they are alive proves my point," Ra's countered. "They put your wife in the hospital and slaughtered one of her dogs practically in your own home. Yet instead of eliminating them yourself, you sent them scurrying back to me in the hopes I would do it for you. Even after all that you have seen and done in the years since we last met, you still are inherently incapable of doing what is necessary to defeat evil."

"If I were to 'eliminate' every person who has caused harm to me over the years I would personify the evil you claim to be fighting against."

"Every war has its casualties, Batman. One way or another, Jordan Wayne will be one of them."

"Not in this lifetime."

Ra's flashed him a smile devoid of warmth. "Perhaps you are operating under the false impression that she is safe because Dao and Ming are here with us," he replied. "Surely you know that they are simply the opening act."

"What I know is that no one you send to finish what they started will be successful," Batman said. "I would not leave her unprotected merely to play word games with you."

"Your faith in your glorified butler is most amusing, but even an old man with skills such as his is no match for those who follow me."

"As always you underestimate me, Ra's. I am not naïve or careless enough to have come here without knowing beyond any doubt that Jordan is safely out of your reach."

"That remains to be seen," Ra's demurred. "However should my efforts to take her away from you fail, I have many other options. The three charming children that will inherit the Wayne empire; a skyscraper full of loyal employees; a city populated with people exhibiting the same indulgent insidiousness that plagued it twelve years ago."

"As long as people have free will, there will always be those who choose a darker path," Batman responded. "You can't decimate every society that doesn't conform to the standards of the world according to Ra's al Ghul."

"But I can extract justice from those who have betrayed me," Ra's countered and gestured at his men. "Take him!"

The men needed no further invitation and immediately swarmed Batman. Dodging a blow from the first one, the Dark Knight retaliated with a spinning kick to his jaw, sending him crashing into the wall. As the remaining men launched themselves at him, Batman engaged the closest one and put him out of commission with a blow to the head. He bent at the knees as Ming attacked and used his body weight to flip the man through the air, then stood up just in time for Dao to land a blow to his jaw, knocking him backward.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to turn the other cheek?" Batman asked dryly.

Without waiting for a response, Batman head butted Dao and sent him sprawling with a second blow, this one to the back of the head. Furious, Dao scrambled to his feet and charged Batman again, only to have his nemesis turn and knock him to the floor with a kick to his jaw. Realizing at last they were not going to be able to finish their task, the men regrouped and vanished back into the shadows.

"The level of incompetence that you continue to display disgusts me," Ra's said to his men and suddenly snapped out, "Seppuku!"

There was rustling in the darkness and a moment later the dead bodies of Dao and Ming fell to the floor on either side of Ra's, the blades protruding from their abdomens indicating they had killed themselves by disembowelment.

"Third strike," Batman remarked drolly.

Ra's curtly directed additional instructions to his remaining men in Japanese and three of them wordlessly exited the room as the fourth stepped further into the shadows. Ignoring the bodies on the floor beside him, Ra's returned his attention to Batman.

"Whatever happens between us, I will have the satisfaction of knowing that you will spend the rest of your life with the pain I carry, the memory of the murder of your own great love. Do you really think that it will not turn you as it did me?"

"I'm not you."

Ra's ignored him. "It is unfortunate that once again I am forced to tie up my own loose ends," he said and reached behind his wheelchair to withdraw a large sword from the sheath attached to the chair. The blade was at least two feet in length with another foot for the handle and the blade was about three inches across.

"Do you remember what I told you the night I burned your home to the ground?"

"I was too busy escaping the fire to memorize your ramblings," Batman answered.

"If someone stands in the way of true justice, you simply walk up behind them and stab them in the heart," Ra's replied. "Of course, a frontal attack is sometimes just as effective."

Before Batman could react, Ra's suddenly rose to his feet and poised the sword in front of him as he charged. After allowing himself a split second of surprise that Ra's was mobile, Batman quickly lifted one of his arms to stop the blade from penetrating his suit and used Ra's own momentum to send him stumbling backward.

"Old age and your previous paralysis have slowed you down, Old Man," he taunted.

"You may have the upper hand at the moment, Bruce, but you still don't have what it takes to rid yourself of me once and for all," Ra's spat at him.

The older man immediately charged again and Batman sidestepped him as he withdrew a small object from his belt that shot out a metal rope to wrap itself around Ra's legs. Instantly Ra's attempted to shift the sword toward his foe, but the scarring on his hands limited their functionality and the weapon fell from his grip as he crashed to the ground.

"Game's over, Ra's," Batman remarked as he walked over to pick up the sword. "You lose."

"I think not, old friend," Ra's countered and glanced toward the shadows where his underling stood in silence. "Now, Tako!"

Instantly a smaller version of the sword he had forfeited to Batman came flying out of the darkness toward Ra's and he snatched it out of the air.

"This time my death will be on my terms, Bruce, not yours," he said confidently. "I'll save you a seat in hell."

Flashing his foe a final, icy smile, Ra's muttered "Seppuku!" before suddenly driving the dagger into his stomach and brutally slashing open his abdomen. Blood began to pour from the wound and Ra's smile was replaced by a grimace of pain as he swiftly bled to death. After it was certain he was dead, Tako emerged from the shadows and cautiously approached Batman.

"You must finish it," he said.

"Finish what?"

"The seppuku," Tako clarified and gestured at the sword Batman was holding. "You were his Kaishaku; you must complete the ritual."

It dawned on Batman then why the foreign word Ra's had said to his men and himself before the mass suicide was familiar: it was the formal Japanese term for ritual suicide. Tako's reference to Kaishaku – another formal term for the victim's confidante – seemed to indicate he expected Batman to complete the ritual by beheading his former teacher.

"It is a matter of honor," Tako continued, noticing Batman's hesitation. "Whatever he has done to those you care about, you would not be where you are today if the Master has not taken you in and taught you how to fight injustice. You owe it to him to do this last act for him."

"Whatever I owed Ra's al Ghul has been paid for in innocent blood," Batman replied. "Tell whoever is chosen to take his place within the League of Shadows that their threat to the people I care about dies with Ra's al Ghul. If any assassins show up on my doorstep again, they'll long for the 'compassion' I showed them this time around."

Tako said nothing but merely vanished back into the darkness. Batman waited a moment to ensure he was gone before shifting his attention to Ra's still form. He stared at him in silence for a moment before speaking.

"For the man you were, I hope you find the peace in death that so eluded you in life."

Leaving Ra's body where it lay, Batman dropped the sword beside it and headed back to his car, where he punched a button on the dash to contact the house. Alfred answered on the second ring, with nothing in his voice to indicate there was trouble.

"Wayne residence."

"Alfred, its me. Is everything all right there?"

Inside Wayne Manor, Alfred glanced over his shoulder to peer into the living room, where Superman was easily subduing the three ninjas Ra's had sent to the house as Trouble and Harmony watched in interested silence.

"Everything is under control here, sir," he said calmly. "How are things on your end?"

"The threat to Jordan has been eliminated," Batman answered. "I'm going to put a call into Commissioner Gordon to have his people deal with the casualties and then I'll be home."

"Very good, sir. Drive safely."

Alfred abruptly ended the call and inside the Batmobile, Batman frowned at the speakerphone.

"He must be getting into the brandy again," he muttered aloud and placed his call to Gordon.

**WAYNE MANOR**

In the days following Batman's final encounter with Ra's al Ghul, subsequent investigations by Gotham P.D. had determined that Dao had been responsible for the murders attributed to "The Butcher". Additionally, forensic evidence had proven that Xia and Chan were the culprits behind the brutal slaughter of Hero. Although the death of Ra's al Ghul had officially been ruled a suicide, Bruce had confided to Jordan the full details of what had occurred that night, needing her to know that in spite of everything he had not killed his nemesis.

Eight weeks to the day of her car accident, Jordan had completed her final physical therapy session and Bruce had taken her to her favorite restaurant for a celebratory dinner. It was also the day before Christmas Eve and the following day would see the arrival of the Kents and the Harpers for the Christmas festivities. In anticipation of the full house, Bruce had given the entire house staff the evening off so he could enjoy some quiet time with Jordan.

Alfred was walking through the main foyer when they returned from dinner and flashed them a warm smile. "I trust that the two of you enjoyed your dinner," he said.

"We had a lovely evening, Alfred, thank you," Jordan replied. "The food was fantastic as always, I was in wonderful company and best of all I didn't have to wobble around on crutches."

"No, but you did bemoan not having one to whack Mayor Minden with when he happened upon our table and expressed his 'utter delight' that you had made a full recovery," Bruce reminded her drolly.

"The package you have been expecting arrived earlier this evening, Master Bruce," Alfred told him. "I put the contents in the master bedroom."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce responded. "Are the guest rooms ready for Clark's family and the Harpers?"

"Yes, sir," Alfred confirmed, then added with a smile, "although I believe that the children still intend to sleep in the living room and await the arrival of Santa Claus."

"Well it would be nice to have a stranger in the house who brings gifts and goodwill instead of mayhem and murder," Jordan quipped.

"I will second that," Alfred replied. "Good night, Master Bruce, Miss Jordan."

"Good night, Alfred," Bruce returned. "We'll see you in the morning."

Alfred headed toward his room and Jordan and Bruce went down the hall to check on the twins before making their way upstairs.

"I'll check on Alexander," Bruce said. "Why don't you head into the bedroom and check on the package Alfred left there?"

Jordan gave him a knowing look. "The two of you are up to something," she declared.

Bruce merely smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'll see you in minute," he evaded and went to look in on his sleeping son as Jordan retreated to their bedroom. She turned on the light as she glanced expectantly at Trouble and Harmony sleeping in the middle of the room and discovered that they were not alone.

"Oh my goodness…"

The Great Dane puppy appeared to be about seven to eight weeks old and was a shiny steel blue in color. It raised its head at Jordan's approach and glanced at her in sleepy curiosity. Bruce returned then and stopped in the doorway, watching in silently as Jordan knelt beside the newest addition to the Wayne household.

"Hello precious," she greeted softly.

"She's Hero's niece," Bruce revealed from behind her. "According to the breeder who rescued the litter that Hero came from, one of his sisters gave birth to a trio of puppies on the day that Hero was killed."

Jordan gently stroked the puppy's head as she glanced over her shoulder. "She's adorable, Bruce, but I told you I didn't want a replacement for Hero," she chided.

Bruce came over to kneel beside her. "Don't think of her as Hero's replacement, Princess," he countered. "Given that Hero was an engagement gift from me to you, just consider this little girl to be a gift for the anniversary of our engagement. Or an early Christmas present, for that matter."

Jordan returned her attention to the puppy. "She is awfully cute," she allowed.

"I'll understand if you can't accept her, but if so you're going to explain it to the children," Bruce told her.

Jordan shook her head. "I can only imagine what it would do to Batman's reputation if the criminals of our fair city knew he was intimidated by his own children," she said dryly.

"At least I didn't have to ask Alfred for assistance the first time I punished Evan and Kaya," Bruce retorted lightly.

"Score one for the Dark Knight," Jordan demurred.

"May I take that to mean we're keeping the puppy?"

Jordan chuckled. "Yes we're keeping the puppy."

"Do you want to name her, or do you want to defer that honor to the children?"

"As much as I adore our children, Handsome, the last time we gave them naming duty one of the foals got stuck with the name Popsicle," Jordan reminded him.

"Well then, in order to spare this fine canine specimen a life with a name derived from a snack food, what are you going to call her?"

"In honor of the season, I'm going to call her Grace."

Bruce reached over the give the newly named puppy a gentle pat. "Welcome to the asylum, Grace," he remarked. "I'm sure you'll do your uncle proud."

Just then the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the turning of the clock to midnight and Jordan flashed Bruce a loving smile.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Mister Wayne."

"Merry Christmas Eve, Mrs. Wayne."

Husband and wife exchanged a kiss.

**END**


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